


Run and Hide

by bkd



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Riften, Romance, Skyrim Main Quest, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12110985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bkd/pseuds/bkd
Summary: After learning that she is the Dragonborn of legend, Signy tries to run from her fate, and hide from the world. Problem is, she really has nowhere to go– until she stumbles into a new life among thieves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Claimed [Revised&Edited]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9559544) by [Herenya902](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herenya902/pseuds/Herenya902). 



> Hi folks! I recently moved to a new city where I've had no job (until very recently) and few friends for a few weeks, and as a result, I've logged a lot of hours on my favorite game. After playing through the Thieves' Guild questline, I knew I needed more (read: more Brynjolf), and so I came to ao3. I stumbled across a really wonderful story called Claimed by Herenya902, which I definitely suggest y'all check out if you haven't already. It definitely helped inspire me to start writing a story of my own, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it! 
> 
> A quick note: some of the timelines are probably going to wind up being a little different than what is canon in the game, particularly the Thieves' Guild timeline (25 years since Gallus was killed, etc– I want Brynjolf to be not much older than Signy). Hope that isn't too bothersome!
> 
> xo, bkd

Signy was used to running. Her life as she knew it was the result of running from one thing or another, never staying in one place for too long. This time, though… nothing she had experienced in her twenty-odd winters could have prepared her for this.

The sun was beginning to rise above Riften, illuminating the city’s walls and glinting off the water from which its residents fished. Signy had never particularly desired to come back here, but now, it was the only place she could think of going.

As she approached the city’s gates, she again mulled over the events of the past few days. Helgen, Whiterun, the call of the Greybeards from High Hrothgar… she had fought a dragon, and won. She had discovered things about herself that she had never thought possible, and it scared the living hell out of her. So she ran, back to the only place that had ever resembled home. A place where she could hide, and forget. 

Signy made her way through the city’s gates after dealing with an unsavory guard who wanted money from her. As she looked around, she allowed herself a small grin– the city looked more or less the same as it had when she had been here last, and the guards were still as slimy as ever. She paused for a moment, deciding where to go. She did have a good sum of coin on her person, having hauled bones and scales from the dragon she had killed into Belethor’s shop in Whiterun. There was a nice inn in Riften, she recalled– The Bee and Barb. Moments after Signy began to make her way to the inn, however, she heard a voice beckoning her.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carryin’, eh, lass?”

Signy whirled around to see the source of the voice. Leaning against a post was a redheaded Nord man, examining her with a glimmer of intrigue in his eyes, and the ghost of a smirk across his face.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said, without thinking. Signy wasn’t quite sure why she was engaging the man. She was here to hide, but somehow she knew this man would not hurt her, despite the almost teasing tone of his question. Besides, she thought– it wouldn’t be a bad idea to actually know somebody in Riften. Hiding did not require total isolation, after all.

The man chuckled. “It’s no matter to me, lass. However, I should be straight with you. I’ve got a bit of errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well paid.”

Signy perked up at the suggestion. She needed money. The gold from the dragon bones wouldn’t last forever. And, having grown up as poor as she had, it was hard to turn down any offer of payment.

“Alright, I’m listening.”

The man explained the process of their little errand to her. He would make a distraction in the marketplace. She was to steal a silver ring from an Argonian named Madesi’s stall, and plant it on another vendor, a Dunmer called Brand-Shei. Although she felt a little nervous energy, Signy was not worried. She had stolen her way through large parts of her childhood. It had been the only way to survive.

Before she knew it, she had crept behind the Argonian’s stall, picked the lock on the strongbox and plucked from it the silver ring, which she then slipped into the Dunmer’s pocket. As the redheaded man’s sales pitch ended, he strode over to her, a coy smile on his face.

“Well, it looks like I chose the right person for the job. Color me impressed, lass. As promised, here’s your payment.” He reached into his pocket and procured a coin purse. He then took her hand, passing her the small burlap satchel surreptitiously. “I’ll tell you what. The group I represent has its home in the Ratway, beneath Riften. A tavern called The Ragged Flagon. Get there in one piece, and we’ll see if you’ve really got what it takes.” He nodded and began to turn to walk away, but he paused. “By the way, lass. What’s your name?”.

“Signy.”

“Signy.”

“And yours?”

“Brynjolf. I’ll see you soon, Signy. I hope.”

The man– Brynjolf– gave her a wink before turning and walking off towards the inn. Signy looked down into her palm, and stared for a moment at the coin purse she held in it. He said that his organization was in the Ratway. Of course. He was with the Thieves’ Guild. Signy should have known. The Thieves’ Guild had practically run Riften when she had lived there as a young girl, although not as much then as they had in the past. Shaking her head, she silently laughed at herself for being so stupid. The money had allured her, and she had been foolish. She couldn’t get involved with the Thieves’ Guild!

Then, a thought struck her, or rather, a memory. She was a young girl, huddled in a corner behind some barrels in the lower level of the city. Shivering and hungry, she sat there, biding her time as she hid from Grelod and anyone who might try to take her back to Honorhall Orphanage. Riften’s winters were typically far milder than those of other cities in Skyrim, but this particular winter was the coldest the city had seen in decades. Food was scarce enough as it was, and Signy was at the bottom of the food chain. She stole scraps, and dug through barrels, hoping to find something, anything to fill her aching belly. She might have been warmer in the Ratway, and maybe even have found more food, but she was terrified, and not without good reason.

She should have died down there, and she probably would have, had it not been for a thief who had stumbled across her one day after emerging from the depths of the Ratway and taken pity on her. She owed her life to that man. Maybe he was still there…

Signy shook herself from her reverie as she sat in The Bee and Barb, eating a hot meal for the first time in what seemed like years. She’d paid for it with money she made running errands for the Thieves’ Guild, and in the past, a man who must have been from the Thieves’ Guild had been kind to her. What was really so bad about getting involved with them?

Then, her thoughts turned to the redheaded man, Brynjolf. Why had he picked her for the job, and who was he? He talked to her like she was just a normal person, and it had been a while since she’d experienced that. Up until recently, she hadn’t been worth anything to anyone, and then, suddenly, she was the most important person in the world. It was nice to have someone who seemed to treat her like a peer.

The choice was strangely clear. Signy was going into the Ratway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, my finger slipped and I wrote another chapter way more quickly than I had anticipated! Hope you all enjoy it :)

Night had fallen over the city. After eating an admittedly delicious meal of fresh Riften salmon and a bottle of Black-Briar mead, Signy crashed into her bed, falling fast asleep moments after her head hit the pillow. It had been a long and exhausting few days, and she’d had little time to sleep. After all– she had traveled from Whiterun to Riften by foot. She didn’t own a horse, and hiring a carriage would have been risky– what if the driver recognized her? That was the last thing she wanted. All she wanted was to hide from whatever fate had befallen her.

Despite her exhaustion, her sleep was uneasy. Nightmares were not new for her. She had experienced plenty of trauma in the past, and those memories haunted her most nights. But now, her waking life had become an even more horrible, nearly incomprehensible dream. She had nightmares of dragons attacking Helgen and the watchtower outside of Whiterun, of the Greybeards’ deafening call. The usual bad dreams of her family perishing at the hands of bandits and from hunger and sickness were now singed with flames from the mouths of the fearsome creatures that she was supposedly destined to vanquish.

Her mother was dying. They had been kept hostage in a bandit outpost for weeks, maybe months. Signy was only six years old, but she had been fully aware of what was happening, at least as fully aware as a six-year-old could be. She knew that, barring a miracle, the end was near for the once strong and proud woman who had raised her. She looked down at her mother’s now-sunken face, her own streaked with hot tears.

“Mama, please don’t go. Please. Just hold on, a little longer.”

Usually at this point in the recurring dream, her mother whispered her last words to her before finally inhaling her last ragged breaths. This time was different.

Suddenly, her mother snapped up to look at her, her face warped by a twisted, menacing grin. Her usual clear blue eyes were gone, now a blood red that reflected the flames that suddenly began to surround them, as if ignited by nothing more than raw fear. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was not her mother’s voice– it was the deep, deafening growl of the dragon from Helgen– Alduin.

“Why do you run, Dovahkiin? Is the great devourer of dragon souls merely a cowardly child? You cannot hide from fate. Your mother would be so disappointed in you…”

Signy sat bolt-upright in her bed, drenched in sweat. She clutched her throat– had she been screaming in her sleep? For a few seconds, she sat, catching her breath. The morning light shone through the window. She was safe, at least for now.

It made sense that her nightmares would get worse, she thought, as she rose from her bed, half-stumbling over to the chest in the corner of the room to retrieve the armor and weaponry that she had salvaged from a bandit she’d killed when she had been sent to Bleak Falls Barrow. However, something about this dream had been so much worse, as if the voice of the dragon was not just a creation of her own mind, but a message directly from him. She hated fate for bringing her into this mess. She hated the dragons for killing so many innocents. She hated Alduin even more for using her mother’s likeness and the memory of her death to frighten her, even if it was only a dream. Mostly, she hated herself, because she knew he was right. She was a coward. But she knew she was not nearly ready to face this, not now. After all, she thought. What good would a fabled hero be if she had no truly honed skills to rely on? Logically, none of this mess could be solved overnight.

She made a face and shook her head at herself. There she was, trying to justify her cowardice with logic. It was the sort of thing her mother might have poked fun at her for. As a young girl, she had always used her smarts to her advantage, to get out of doing things that children hated doing, and her mother always knew it. Divines, Signy missed her. 

Again, she shook herself from her thoughts, tying back her long black hair in braids before descending the stairs to the inn’s main floor. She ordered some food from Keerava, the Argonian barmaid, which she ate quickly as she thought about the day ahead of her. Soon, she would be heading into the Ratway, a less than exciting prospect. However, part of her knew that it would help, in some strange way. Besides, she liked the idea of seeing the man, Brynjolf, again. Of course he had been charming– he was a thief, not to mention a recruiter of thieves. Perhaps Signy was starved for companionship, but he had seemed like someone she could be friends with. She hoped that was true.

Soon, she was walking through the brisk morning air, not making direct eye contact with anyone she saw on the city streets. She hurried down the wooden steps to the undercity, heading to where she remembered the Ratway’s entrance to be. Before pushing open the door, she readied herself both mentally and physically, placing her hand at the hilt of her sheathed steel sword.

It was dark, dank, and smelled considerably less than rosy. Of course, these were the sewers of Riften, so Signy shouldn’t have been surprised. She made her way through the tunnels, coming across low-lives, bandits, and plenty of skeevers around every corner. She cut them all down with relative ease. Signy may not have been a trained warrior, but she knew her way around a sword and a bow. In a perfect world, she would never have needed to learn how to defend herself, or even how to hunt, but she was glad that she had. Killing certainly didn’t make Signy feel good, but, in self-defense, doing so handily was exhilarating and empowering. After all, she was a Nord, and what are Nords known for if not great prowess in battle?

Soon enough, after handling (and subsequently looting) anyone who could stand in her way, she heard the faint sounds of a tavern. This had to be the Ragged Flagon. Signy rolled her shoulders back and held her head high. This was a new chapter for her, and she would write her story with as much confidence as she could muster. Maybe she was running from her problems, but feeling sorry for herself would get her nowhere.

Signy strode into the large, open room, making her way around a large pool of water and over a small footbridge, past a tough-looking thief who gave her one of the most intimidating glares she’d seen in some time. Still, he couldn’t scare her. She scanned the room for Brynjolf. After a moment, she spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man with a head of shoulder-length red hair standing at the bar, chatting with his fellow thieves. Signy took a breath, trying not to grin. She couldn’t help it. This was exciting.

“Brynjolf! I believe you were expecting me?”

The man turned around, and a warm smile spread across his admittedly scruffy, yet friendly face. “Well, well, well! Not to say I didn’t have faith in you, lass, but I wasn’t certain I’d ever see you again!”

“Getting here was easy,” Signy replied, as dryly as she could without sounding rude. It hadn’t been a cakewalk, but she had done quite well, if she did say so herself. After all, confidence was key.

However, he seemed to know that she was puffing herself up to make a good impression. He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Reliable and headstrong? You’re turning out to be quite the prize! So… now that I’ve whetted your appetite with our little scheme at the market, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?”

He went on to explain the task at hand to her– she was to collect debts from some “deadbeats” around town, but more importantly, deliver a message that the Thieves’ Guild was not to be ignored. And, most importantly, she was to keep her blade clean in doing so. Simple enough. Although it was small, being entrusted with another job to do so quickly surprised Signy, but pleasantly so. She was eager to have something to do other than think about her fears, and she couldn’t deny the rush of this new adventure.

As she was turning to go, she stopped and looked back at him. Before she knew what she was doing, the words tumbled from her mouth: “Hey, Brynjolf, while I’m gone, maybe work on that sales pitch for your Falmer Blood Elixir a little, eh?” Oh, shit! Had that been too much? She was new blood! She couldn’t just joke around like that!

But, to her immense relief (and also, her pleasure) Brynjolf let out a hearty laugh. Signy couldn’t help but smile as she nodded and turned away, giving him a small salute as she did so. He really had quite a magnetic personality, even if he was probably a dirty scoundrel underneath it all. She hadn’t felt that comfortable around someone so quickly in a long time. In that moment, Signy decided they would become good friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signy officially joins the Guild.

Signy had considered waiting until nightfall to complete the task at hand, but the nervous energy she’d been dealing with since the day before in the marketplace was too much to ignore. She liked having something to do, and she was already anxious to get back to the Flagon. Before she’d left, she’d talked to some of the other thieves there to get some information on the debtors. Despite being somewhat standoffish (which, of course, she understood, given that she was still an outsider), the thieves had a certain charm about them. Her original plan of speaking to nobody unless absolutely necessary seemed silly now. She knew herself– she was far too social a creature to totally isolate herself. She would lose her mind in that loneliness.

She slipped back up through the Ratway, still on her guard, though nothing came to trouble her this time. As she pushed open the heavy door separating the tunnels from the waterway, she ran through her job again in her head. Bersi Honey-Hand at the Pawned Prawn, Haelga at the Bunkhouse, and Keerava at The Bee and Barb. One by one, Signy walked into each establishment, and used the information she’d gathered to her advantage. Bersi had a prized Dwemer vase– emphasis on “had”, because Signy smashed it after he refused to pay up. His mind was quickly changed. Haelga was a devout worshipper of Dibella, so what better way to shake her up than to hold her statue of the goddess for ransom?

It was the last stop on her errand that made her feel a little guilty. Keerava had family in Morrowind, and using that fact as leverage seemed to be the easiest way to get the money apart from violence (and as Brynjolf had said, it was best that Signy kept her blade clean). Signy had lost her whole family, and even empty threats to hurt someone else’s family made her feel sick. But that’s all they were– empty threats. At least, she hoped.

Keerava cracked and handed over the coin. Signy figured she would have to find somewhere new to stay after this. She didn’t know if she could face the barmaid again after saying what she’d said. She would figure that out later, though. For now, she had to get back to the Flagon. 

* * *

“Mercer, this is the one I was talking about. Our new recruit.”

Signy had arrived back at the Flagon and immediately found Brynjolf sitting there to give him the gold she’d collected. Apparently thrilled with her work, he led her back past the bar, down a hallway, through a storage cabinet with a false back panel, and through another heavy wooden door. Before her opened up a large cistern with a four-way bridge through the middle of it. Beds, chests, and the like lined the walls. This must be where the Guild members lived, and the unfriendly looking Breton man before her must be Mercer Frey, the Guildmaster.

“This better not be another waste of the Guild’s resources, Brynjolf,” he said, impatience tinging his voice. He then turned to face Signy. “Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules, and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions. You do what we say, when we say. Do I make myself clear?”

Signy had an uncomfortable feeling about this man, but she shook it off. Maybe she’d caught him on an off day, and even if she hadn’t, she couldn’t expect everyone in the Guild to be as friendly as Brynjolf. Now was not the time for her to go ruffling feathers.

“Yes. I understand.”

“Good. Then I think it’s time we put your expertise to the test.”

Brynjolf snapped his head around to look at Mercer, a look of astonishment on his face. “Wait a moment. You’re not talking about Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn’t get in.”

“You claim this recruit possesses an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let her prove it.”

Mercer explained the premise of the job, leaving the explanation of the details to Brynjolf, who seemed to be lost in thought. However, as Mercer turned to leave them, Brynjolf stopped him sooner than Signy could even open her mouth to ask him for an explanation.

“Mercer, aren’t you forgetting something?” Brynjolf asked, sounding slightly irritated.

The Guildmaster raised an eyebrow before responding, somewhat begrudgingly. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you’ll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you’re in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode away.

Once he was out of earshot, Brynjolf turned to Signy with a brilliant smile. “Welcome to the family, lass. I apologize for Mercer’s mood. I’m sure you know things haven’t been going well around here lately, so I promise it’s not personal. Besides, I’m sure he’ll take a liking to you once you start raking in coin.”

Signy felt a bubble of relief welling up within her. “I hope so,” she replied. But then, she remembered the Goldenglow job. The bubble of relief suddenly sank like a heavy stone, hitting the pit of her stomach with full force. “But this job he has me doing– Vex couldn’t get in? How in Talos’ name does he expect me to do it? Until a few days ago, I’d only ever been a thief for survival. ‘Natural aptitude’ be damned. I’m not trained for this!” 

Brynjolf considered this for a second. “Well, nobody said this job had to be done immediately. You play by the rules here, but a good thief works within them. We’ll get you good and prepared, don’t you worry, lass. You wouldn’t be off to that island tonight anyway. For now, how about I buy you a drink?”

Signy allowed herself a small smile back at Brynjolf. “A drink would be good. It’s been a whirlwind few days.”

They headed back into The Ragged Flagon. Signy held down a table while Brynjolf ordered two bottles of mead from the barkeep, Vekel. He returned with their drinks and sat down across from her, studying her intently. “So, lass, I figure now that you’re one of us, we should get to know each other. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. We’re thieves, of course. Plenty of people in this line of work aren’t up for sharing. Anyhow, if you don’t mind, lass, I’d like to know about where you came from.”

Signy took a hearty swig of her mead, noticing Brynjolf chuckle at the sight. “Well, there’s not much to tell, really.” That was a lie. She had more to tell than she could even begin to articulate. Nevertheless, she continued with her heavily watered-down story. “It’s not the happiest tale. I was born in Eastmarch. Kynesgrove. I lost my family when I was young. A bandit raid gone… well, as badly as it could have gone, for us, at least. After that, I ended up in Riften for a time. No family, no real home. I stole to survive, and I broke into places to stay as warm and safe as I could. And now, I’m here.” That was true.

Brynjolf took a drink as he took in what she’d told him. He was curious, but didn’t want to pry, at least not yet. His childhood hadn’t been much different, and he knew how painful and generally unpleasant rehashing such a story could be. He didn’t want to scare the new blood away. “Aye, lass, and I’m glad you are. It was much the same for me. But, enough of that. Do you have any questions for me?”.

She paused, going through all the thoughts swirling around in her head. There were so many things she could ask, but one question had been nagging her since they had met in the market. “Why me? Of all people to ask to help you out on a job, why me? How did you know I wouldn’t muck it up, or that I wasn’t, say, someone who might want to put a stop to the Guild’s activities?”

“Sometimes… you just know. Forgive me, lass, if this sounds a little strange, but you looked like you wanted to disappear. Good thieves disappear. And these days, I can’t blame anyone for wanting to hide. It’s a harsh world out there, even more now than any time in recent memory,” he began. He knew that what he wanted to say next could give away his rough and tumble exterior, but for some reason, he didn’t care. Something about this new blood made him want to be honest, at least as honest as a thief could be. “…That’s one thing I love about the Guild… nobody cares who you were before. What matters is that we’re all here now, and we want nothing more than to make some coin. And if you’re like me, lass, then you’ll want to have a little fun doing it.” Good save.

His answer brought that bubble of relief back to Signy. The Thieves Guild would be a perfect place to hide from her fate, as slimy as that made her feel sometimes. But more importantly, the relief felt a little more like… happiness? Maybe Signy was being presumptuous, rushing to conclusions. Maybe she was being too optimistic. But her optimism was one of the few things she had left, even if it wasn’t logical at all. Nothing about this situation was perfect. She still felt a twinge of guilt over what she’d said to Keerava before, and there were still many, many details she would have to work out, the Goldenglow job included. But for now, she was in the Guild, officially. The powers that be (well, at least Brynjolf, and maybe Mercer) had thought she was good at this. She had a place to stay, something to keep her occupied, and skills to master. Most importantly… she had a friend. It had been a long time since she could say that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to get this one up, but I hope you liked it! Now that I've gotten most of the necessary exposition out of the way, we can start to have some fun :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay in getting this up– it's been a busy (but good!) few weeks, and I really wanted to get this chapter right. So, without further ado, here it is. Enjoy!

_Clink!_

“Damn it, you idiot! Do you think I’m made of lockpicks? This is your last chance. Don’t muck it up!”

Signy groaned as she tossed aside the broken lockpick, reaching for the last one available. She and Vex had been in the training room for what seemed like centuries, doing nothing but picking locks. If there was a hell, trying to pick locks while being hollered at for all eternity might be it.

She took a deep breath before beginning to move the lockpick and the wrench in tandem, trying her best to navigate using her sense of touch. After a few cautious movements, she felt the lock release. As the lid creaked open, Signy finally exhaled with a loud sigh of relief.

Vex cocked an eyebrow at her, looking rather bored and unimpressed. “Well, you didn’t totally blow it. I guess that’s enough for today, new blood.”

Signy stood up, her limbs stiff and aching from crouching in the same position for so long. “Thanks. Really. I hate to admit it, but I need all the help I can get right now. So, really, thank you for taking the time to help me with this.” She didn’t want to sound like she was kissing up, but it was true. Signy hated nothing more than feeling like a burden, and so she was doubly grateful for any assistance she could get.

To Signy’s surprise, the hot-tempered thief let out a chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, new blood, but you’re learning pretty quickly. Not to say that I’m impressed– and don’t you dare tell anyone that I am. For what it’s worth, though, I’m not doing this to help you. I’m doing this for the Guild. Not to mention because I also owe Brynjolf a favor. If nothing else, the idiot is persistent. He’s convinced you’re the future of the Guild. Don’t know what you slipped him to make him think that.”

Signy realized she was smiling and quickly straightened her face. This was the closest she might ever get to earning Vex’s respect, so she didn’t want to seem too friendly. “To be honest, I don’t know either. He just picked me off the street, and here I am. Really. I promise I’m not trying to show anyone up.” She definitely wasn’t– she was still in hiding, after all. Making too many waves might give her away. Not to mention, Vex had made multiple comments about Signy “stealing her job”.

Vex paused for a moment before responding. “You know, that attitude will do you well when it comes to ‘camaraderie’, or whatever sentimental dolts like Brynjolf like to call it. But the Guild needs any and all help it can get right now. Don’t hold yourself back. Don’t go acting like a cocky imbecile either, but you’re a thief. Thieves aren’t exactly known for being humble.”

Signy allowed herself a grin. “Well, I wouldn’t have accepted his offer if I hadn’t been fully confident that I could get the job done. I may be lacking in training, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? I’ll certainly keep that in mind, though. So, again… thanks.”

The two women stood in a somewhat awkward silence for a moment. Vex had something to say, but it was completely unlike her to bring it up. She quickly weighed all the options in her head as Signy stood there, wondering if she should turn to leave. Finally, Vex opened her mouth.

“You remind me of myself when I was just getting started. I don’t know your backstory, but women in this world all share the, say, extra hurdles, to put it lightly, that men don’t have to deal with. You’re still a young girl, you’re scared, you’ve clearly been on your own, but… you’re not anymore. The Guild takes care of its own. And if Brynjolf is right about you, then you’ll be with us for a long time. Just keep that in mind before you do anything stupid.”

“That means a lot, Vex. Thank you.”

Vex nodded curtly and walked off towards the cistern. Signy was a little stunned. From what she’d heard about Vex, this interaction was highly unusual, to say the least. However, she wouldn’t complain. It was so incredibly gratifying to feel accepted, especially by someone like Vex. More and more, it seemed like she had made the right choice in following Brynjolf that day in the market. It had been a week now. It had been hard– the world outside the Guild still weighed on her, and nightmares still plagued her sleep each night. Not to mention, she was still adjusting to her new life as a thief for profit, and not just survival. But at least she wasn’t alone. She had to wonder if she would have even made it through that week by herself without doing something rash.

* * *

“Vex! I’ve been looking for you. Come, sit here for a second.”

Vex had just walked into the relatively empty Flagon to see Brynjolf sitting alone at a table, a bottle of mead in hand. She obliged him, pulling out the chair across from him and taking a seat. “Alright, I’m here. What do you need?” she asked gruffly.

Brynjolf rolled his eyes in jest at his old friend’s typically haughty demeanor. “Nothing too pressing, don’t worry. I was just wondering how Signy’s training was going. How is she doing? Is she adjusting well?”

Vex let out a laugh. “What are you, her mother? What are you so worried about?”

“To be honest, lass, I’m not worried about her, I suppose. I guess I’m just worried about this job. Doesn’t it seem odd that Mercer would give it to her? She has the raw talent, but not the training. She blows the job, and it’s bad for all of us. So, why give it to her in the first place? It just doesn’t make sense. Something’s off, lass. I know Mercer is under a lot of stress, but I’m just… worried.” Brynjolf shook his head, feeling silly for being so anxious in the first place. He trusted Mercer, and he didn’t want to undermine the Guildmaster, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this situation was wrong. 

Before Vex could respond, he continued, words spilling from his mouth like mead from a bottle. He had a tendency ramble when he was worried or nervous, which, admittedly, didn’t happen often. “And there’s another thing– what if she gets hurt, or worse? She’s one of us now, and we’re meant to take care of our own. And, not to mention, the last thing the Guild needs is another tragedy.”

Vex sat in silence for a moment, considering everything her friend had just told her. “I don’t really know. I think at this point, we just have to take things one step at a time. The training has gone… very, very well so far. She’s a natural.” 

She saw that Brynjolf still looked worried, his brow furrowed and his jaw stiff. Vex wasn’t the humorous type, but she didn’t want to deal with these tough questions any longer than she had to.

“You really do have an eye for talent, Bryn. At first, I was worried you only picked her because she’s pretty,” she said with a smirk.

Brynjolf couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on, lass. I’ve had my fair share of transgressions in the past, but I promise you that was the last thing I had on my mind. The lass looked like she could be one of us, that’s all. Thief’s honor!”

“Sure, sure,” Vex teased as she stood up to leave and head back towards the cistern. “Explain all you want, just don’t come crying to me when you realize you have a little crush on her!” She gave her friend a small smile and a nod before she turned and walked away.

As Vex departed, Brynjolf smiled to himself, shaking his head as he took a swig of his mead. Sure, the lass gave off the air of a thief. That was completely true. And, in jest or not, Vex was right– the lass was easy on the eyes, but he was (fairly) confident that her looks hadn’t swayed him in her favor. 

In reality, though, what had struck him about Signy that day was that she looked… completely terrified. Lost, and clearly alone. He didn’t know why, and he knew it wasn’t his place to ask at this point. But he remembered a time where he had been in her position, not so long ago. If he could help someone find a family in the Guild as he’d been able to do, then it was a personal victory on top of whatever coin they could bring in.

He was confident in his recruit. From what little time he’d spent with Signy so far, in the Flagon, training in the Cistern, and around Riften, he could tell she had talent, determination, and a mind like a steel trap. She had been so pleasant to be around as a person, too. She was warm, witty, and friendly, and she didn’t seem to take herself too seriously. However, no matter how many nice things he could say about her, the likelihood that she could pull off Goldenglow job was small. He couldn’t explain why, but if something happened to the lass, Brynjolf had a feeling he’d never forgive himself for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this one, although it was a bit of a challenge! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far (like, this story, not the band– sorry, terrible joke hahaha)!
> 
> \- bkd


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice day for a walk in the woods!! Some fun feel-good times before we all get angsty and sad in the future of this story ;)

Signy awoke with a start, her heart racing. Another nightmare, same as the others. She took a moment to catch her breath, rubbing sleep from her eyes before sitting up in her bed in the Cistern. It must have been fairly early– most of the others were still asleep, though she could detect the wonderful aroma of Vekel’s cooking coming from the direction of the Flagon. Her stomach growled. It was time to eat, and nothing came between Signy and a delicious meal. She pushed the horrible dream from her mind, and decided that there was no reason she couldn’t have a good day.

She didn’t expect to see anyone in the Flagon this early, but she noticed Brynjolf sitting at a table alone as she entered. “Morning, Brynjolf!”, she chirped, as she walked over to the bar to procure her breakfast.

Brynjolf let out his familiar chuckle. “You’re certainly chipper today, lass. I’m surprised. I didn’t peg you for a morning person,” he said as she sat down across from him with her plate. 

“I’m always in a good mood when there’s breakfast involved,” she said before taking a bite of her salmon. “I didn’t even sleep that well, but I’m here, and I have a hot meal in front of me. What’s not to be chipper about?”

“That’s a refreshing attitude,” he replied. “Say, lass, since you’re in such good spirits– I was thinking of going out into the woods today to brush up on my archery skills. Care to come along? The weather’s nice, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Signy broke into a grin. “I’d love to. I wager I could show you a thing or two about marksmanship.”

“Oh, really now?” Brynjolf laughed in response. “Rather bold for a new blood, challenging the second in command like that!”

Signy quickly wolfed down the last few scraps of her breakfast before standing up to leave. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true!” she teased, waiting for Brynjolf to follow. He obliged, shaking his head and laughing quietly at his recruit’s boundless energy.

Soon enough, they were out in the crisp morning air, descending into the dense birch forest just a short walk from the city walls. The light trickled through the treetops, illuminating the scores of autumn-colored leaves that still clung to the branches. It was quiet, but for the delicate morning songs of birds, the gentle sound of a breeze rustling through the foliage, and their footsteps. 

Signy felt at peace in the woods. There weren’t too many particularly fond memories remaining of her childhood, but many of those that she did have were of her mother leading Signy and her sister through the pine forests surrounding Kynesgrove, teaching the young girls their first lessons on how to hunt and forage for their food while their father worked in the mines. She hadn’t seen or heard from her sister in years, not since they were separated and sent to different orphanages after escaping from their time with the bandits. Signy hoped that wherever she was, she was safe and happy.

She realized she’d drifted off into another reverie and stopped paying attention to Brynjolf, who was telling her a flowery tale of some great heist he’d pulled off. She returned her attention to him just in time to hear him describe a satchel full of precious jewels that he’d made off with.

“I’ve always been fascinated by gemstones,” Signy said, trying to make up for her earlier lack of attention. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never owned anything that precious. But to be honest, I think I just like shiny things. Like a magpie.”

“Incredibly intelligent and fond of stealing things?” Brynjolf replied with a smirk.

“One of those things is an absolute truth, the other is a lovely compliment for which I thank you from the bottom of my heart!” Signy laughed.

“I’m assuming you mean to say that the first one was the absolute truth, right, lass?”

She let out a hearty laugh. “Brynjolf, I’ve only known you for, what, a week and a half, two weeks now? But I think you really get me!”

Suddenly, Signy froze in her tracks and whipped her head around. Her eyes froze on a point off in the distance, her hand placed on her bow, ready to remove it.

“I heard something,” she said quietly, just above a whisper. “Look over there, behind those trees. Deer.”

Brynjolf turned to look in the same direction as Signy. There it was– a large, but still young, buck. It hadn’t seemed to have noticed them, but it was partially obscured by a cluster of three smaller birch trees. It wasn’t an easy shot, and whoever would take it would most likely have to sneak around without making any noise to get a better one.

“Do you want this one, or should I?”, Signy asked, quiet again.

Brynjolf smirked. He’d show her a challenge. “I’ll take it, lass. You’ll regret egging me on,” he teased lightly as he withdrew his bow.

“Yeah, yeah, just get on with it,” she whispered back with a grin. 

He decided not to sneak around to take the shot. He was bigger and more likely to make noise than Signy, so he chose to trust his aim. Brynjolf took his stance, knocked his arrow, took aim, and drew back on the string in a fluid but careful motion. He inhaled deeply as he focused on his target– an opening between two trees. Then, he released.  
They heard the sound of the arrow whizzing through the air and planting itself into the deer’s side, followed by a short, strangled bleat, and a soft thud on the forest floor. Signy’s eyes went wide– she’d bit off quite a bit more than she expected to chew. He was a good shot.

“So, do you still want to show me a thing or two about marksmanship?” Brynjolf laughed, bemused by the sight of her face. Signy looked at him, the look of slight shock immediately transforming into a coy smile. 

“Absolutely! Nothing I can’t handle!” she chimed as she strode over to Brynjolf’s fallen prey. She reached down and grabbed a large leaf from a plant blooming near the deer before pulling the arrow from its shoulder and wiping the blood off on the leaf. She walked back to her redheaded companion. “I only challenge someone if I know I can beat them,” she said as she placed the arrow into his outstretched palm. She flashed him a wink as she released her grasp.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Vex, lass,” he chuckled. “Her attitude’s rubbing off on you!”

They harvested the deer and continued on through the forest, more hunting still to be done. They walked closer towards the mountains, hoping to find some elk, mountain goat, or even cave bear. Along the way, the pair shared stories and chatted about their likes and dislikes. Brynjolf had found Signy exciting to talk to. She had a great sense of humor and was always enthusiastic about hearing his stories– something he was grateful for, knowing himself to be a talker, and Delvin and Vex to be sick of hearing it. For Signy, Brynjolf was just as warm and approachable as he’d been day she’d met him, and he seemed equally intrigued in what she had to say. If she was being honest with herself, she needed the attention. Her situation was strange– someone who was fundamentally an extrovert trying to hide away from everyone else. She was thankful to have him to talk to.

They soon came upon a cavern in the side of the mountain. “This looks like a bear cave,” Signy said, gesturing to claw marks on the trunks of nearby trees. “I’ll bet you the beast isn’t far off. This one’s mine,” she whispered, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

She turned and began to climb up the side of the mountain to give herself a better vantage point. Brynjolf noticed that she was remarkably quiet in doing so, making almost no sound despite carrying her bow up along with her. Slowly, he followed, spending extra time to make sure he was as quiet as she had been. Signy stood, crouched and ready to take aim on a ledge of rock that jutted out from a few feet above the mouth of the cave, scanning the forest floor as far as she could see from her perch.

Brynjolf heard a crunch in the distance, and before he could turn himself around to see where it came from, Signy had raised her bow, aiming in the direction of the sound. “Where are you…” Signy breathed to herself as she peered into the distance. Then, she grinned. “Ah. There.”

She knocked her arrow, aimed, and fired once, and then before Brynjolf knew it, she had fired another. He saw the angry bear rear up on its hind legs from behind a tree, but before it could charge toward them, an arrow pierced its neck, and it fell down, dead. 

“Divines, lass, how did you do that so quickly?” Brynjolf exclaimed, almost laughing in disbelief. “I admit defeat! You’re quite a shot. You can handle yourself. Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

She shrugged and then jumped down from her perch. As she landed, she looked up at Brynjolf with a grin of self-satisfaction. “I told you, I’m fond of eating. I’m also fond of being able to protect myself. So, I learned to hunt.”

Brynjolf chuckled again. “I suppose that’s as good a motivation as any, lass. Either way, you’re damn good with that thing. Remind me not to go on a nice stroll in the woods when you’re out here.”

The two laughed, and then fell silent for a moment before Brynjolf strode over to the bear, retrieving the arrows, and bringing them back to Signy as she’d done for him before. “You challenged me, and beat me. I think this means you’re no longer a new blood, lass,” he said with his familiar warm smile.

She laughed softly as she quivered the arrows. “Thanks, Brynjolf. I’m really and truly honored.”

After another moment of comfortable silence, Brynjolf spoke up. “You know, lass, you can call me Bryn. Everyone else I consider a friend does.”

A flash of pleasant surprise, and maybe gratitude danced across Signy’s eyes. They were a striking shade of grey, Brynjolf noticed, almost silver. A touched smile spread across her pale face. “You consider me a friend?”

“Well, of course, lass. Is that surprising?” Brynjolf hoped he hadn’t given off the idea that he was only a superior. Distancing himself would be more up Mercer’s alley. Not to mention, he genuinely did consider her a friend, even though they hadn't known each other for very long. Somehow, she felt like an old friend who had finally come back home.

Signy shook her head. “No, no. I’m just happy is all. Before the Guild, I was alone for quite a long time, which was rubbish. I’m too social a person for that. It’s just really nice to hear someone call me their friend again… So, thanks, Bryn,” she smiled, sounding as genuine as a thief could get.

“You’re stuck with me now, lass! Friends, whether you like it or not.” 

She did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like getting to the point where he says "Call me Bryn" is like, the golden moment, hahaha. Hope y'all liked it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, hello everyone! I'm so sorry this took me so long to get done! I had a whirlwind of a month in terms of career stuff, personal stuff, etc. I'm very much living a life in transition right now (starting new jobs, etc), so it's been hard to keep up! That said, things are settling down and it's looking like I'll have a good bit more time to focus on writing this story, and I've got a lot planned! So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

It had been two weeks since Signy had officially become a member of the Thieves’ Guild, and a busy two weeks it had been. She’d put in all the hours she could in the training room, trying to pack in as much practice as she could get before Mercer got fed up with her putting off the Goldenglow mission. Brynjolf had assured her that he’d spoken with Mercer and given her some leeway, but by the way Mercer would glare at Signy when he saw her around the Cistern, she could tell that she didn’t have much time left to get the job done.

Since the day of Signy and Brynjolf’s hunting excursion, the pair had kept the routine of eating breakfast together in the Flagon before the rest of the Guild awoke. They talked about a variety of subjects each day– often times stories from their respective pasts, or news of the war in Skyrim. Other days, it was something more lighthearted, like tales of the more raucous nights in the Flagon. On this particular morning, though, the topic at hand was the Goldenglow job. 

“I know I said I wouldn’t be nervous, but I’m nervous,” Signy groaned as she sat down across from Brynjolf. “And, I know this sounds bad, but I wish I could put it off, even just for one more day.”

“Lass, I told you, you’ll be fine,” Brynjolf replied, trying to sound as earnest as possible. “You’ve trained hard. Even Vex has been impressed with you.”

The truth was, though, that despite how hard Signy had worked to improve her skills, and how easily she had fallen into the life of a thief, two weeks was not much time. Not to say that the lass could have done anything different. She had done everything right. It was just an exceptionally difficult job. Like Brynjolf had said to Mercer when he had originally given Signy the job– not even Vex could pull it off. He had confidence in Signy, but the odds were stacked against her. Brynjolf might have been as nervous as she was, and he hoped to the Divines that it didn’t show. But Signy had a way of knowing when people weren’t being honest.

“The vote of confidence helps, Bryn, it really does, but I’m just trying to be realistic. I know you know it too. You know the likelihood that I pull this off is slim.” She shook her head, frowning. “You don’t have to protect me from that fact.”

She didn’t say it in so many words, but Brynjolf knew she could see through him. After only two weeks, Signy felt like an old friend to Brynjolf, but of course, that came with the scrutiny that only an old friend could give. 

“I’m not trying to protect you, lass. I’m trying to protect myself!” Brynjolf laughed. He’d tried to resort to humor, but what he’d just said was brutally honest. He immediately straightened his face, afraid that he might have upset Signy, but to his relief she merely rolled her eyes and smirked in response. “Gods, Bryn, who are you, my mother?”

“I did recruit you, lass, so I think I’m the closest thing to it!”

The two fell into silence for a short while, both focusing on finishing their breakfast. After a few moments, Brynjolf looked up to see Signy staring at him intently, as if she had been studying him while his eyes were averted. Still, she didn’t break her gaze.

“You look tired,” Signy said flatly, despite the trace of a frown on her face.

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow and laughed softly. “Well, lass, you certainly know how to make a man feel special.”

However, Signy’s face did not soften, nor did she acknowledge her friend’s sarcasm. Her brow was slightly furrowed, her jaw stiff. Brynjolf hadn’t seen her look this worried before, a fact that was far more unsettling to him than it probably should have been. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He could tell that she didn’t want to be thinking about the job right now, and he couldn’t blame her.

“I suppose I am tired. Guild business has been keeping me busy. Late to bed, early to rise. Stuff like that. Mercer’s breathing down my neck, and it doesn’t help that Delvin won’t shut his mouth about this ‘curse’ nonsense.”

“Anything I can do?” she asked, her face finally softening somewhat, falling into more gentle, but still concerned expression.

The red-haired thief chuckled wearily. “Nothing except making us as much coin as you can, lass.”

Signy sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I guess that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

* * *

Night had fallen over Riften, and Signy was stood on the edge of the lake, looking towards the small island that was home to the Goldenglow Estate. As light as her Guild armor was, it felt heavy on her skin, even though the cold air still permeated the leather. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the same icy tingling feeling that stung her cheeks. It was time to focus.

Vex had told Signy about an entrance to the estate using the sewers, but she felt more calm out here in the cold mountain air. The one thing Signy hated more than anything else was small, enclosed spaces– the thought alone made her shudder. This far outside the city, there wouldn’t be much room to move around in one of those tunnels. She would have to swim to the island. She crouched down to dip her hand into the water. It was icy cold, but so was Signy’s Nordic blood.

After swimming as fast as she could to the small island in the middle of Lake Honrich without making any noise, Signy crouched behind a large boulder on the shore, taking a moment to conjure magical flames in her palms in order to warm herself. She then slipped back up to higher ground, sidling right up to the side of the estate, following the wall until she came to the door through she would need to enter.  
She retrieved a lockpick from a satchel at her waist, and set about her work. With each movement of the lock, Signy could practically hear Vex berating her. Clink! The pick had broken. She produced another, inhaling deeply and allowing her eyes to fall shut a moment before trying again. She needed to focus. She tried again, this time trying even harder to feel which way the metal wanted her to go. Suddenly, the lock gave way. Signy was in.

She slipped into the estate, making sure the door didn’t make any noise as it closed. Slowly but surely, she crept through the first floor, listening as closely as she could for the footsteps of Aringoth’s hired thugs. So far, so good. Quickly, Signy stole up the small staircase leading to the second floor.

As she approached Aringoth’s bedchambers, she noticed a mercenary sitting at a desk immediately outside of the master bedroom, facing away from the door. Panic began to rise in her throat, her muscles tensing with anxiety. No. Now was not the time. She had made it this far, and she would not give up now.

Before she knew it, without so much as a creaking of the floorboards, Signy had snuck past the mercenary, picked the lock on Aringoth’s door, and swept into his bedchamber. It appeared to be empty… until she rounded a corner past a wardrobe to see the elf crouched to the ground, staring directly at her. She froze, thinking that this would be the end for her. She had let the Guild down. She had let Brynjolf down. But strangely, Aringoth only looked at her, not saying anything. 

Suddenly, though, a realization hit her. When Signy was young and learning to hunt, her mother had taught her to dip her arrows in paralysis poison. This way, she explained, any game that couldn’t be brought down with one arrow alone wouldn’t have the chance to escape before it could be killed. Her arrows were still poisoned from her last hunting trip. Suddenly, Signy found herself drawing her bow and stringing an arrow faster than she ever had before. With haste, she took aim at the elf’s foot, and let the arrow fly. With a muffled whimper, he froze, collapsing to the floor. Signy leapt towards him, going through his pockets as quickly as she could. 

As soon as she had the key to Aringoth’s safe, she sped out of the room, and back down the stairs, all the way down through the cellar and into the basement. Frankly, it was a miracle that none of the mercenaries noticed her. She made her way past even more thugs on her way down yet another flight of stairs, and finally arrived at the safe. Without even taking a moment to examine its contents, she cleaned it out, turned on her heel, and headed out the way she came. She had done it.

•••

“Ladies and gentlemen, I propose a toast!”

Most of the Guild was congregated in the Flagon, celebrating Signy’s victory at Goldenglow. Brynjolf stood at the front of the group, beaming, with a mug of mead raised in her direction.

“To an obnoxious little runt,” he smirked, “for somehow pulling off this absolutely absurd job. Lass, I don’t want to know what kind of deal you might have made with some Daedra to get this done. But you did it, and that’s what counts. To Signy, and to the Guild!”

“–and before you all swig down your drinks,” Signy interjected hastily, “to Vex, for being a damn good teacher, even if she doesn’t want to hear it.” She stole a glance at her reluctant mentor, who rolled her eyes and allowed herself a small smirk in response. 

A chorus of gleeful toasts echoed back at the two Nords before people downed their drinks and proceeding to mingle amongst themselves. Brynjolf held down a table and beckoned Signy over to join him, which she obliged.

“Not to get sentimental here, lass,” he began as she took a seat. “But I’m proud of you. Really. Did you get lucky? Maybe, but luck isn’t everything. You have a real talent. And to think, I’m the one who discovered you!”

Signy smiled and rolled her eyes. “What would I do without you, Bryn?” As sarcastic as she sounded, it was a valid question, and one that she had considered already. She had been thinking about her station a lot lately. Where would she be if Brynjolf hadn’t plucked her off the street a few weeks before?

“You know, lass, I don’t work as many jobs myself as I used to. Second-in-command business, and all. But I want that to change, and, depending on the job, and if you’d be interested, I’d love to join you in the field, lightening the Skyrim’s pockets,” he said earnestly. He himself had been dwelling on this for a while. The lass was already a good friend to him, and he wanted to get to know her better. Not to mention, she was turning out to be an incredible thief. He just hoped it didn’t sound strange. Lots of thieves preferred to work alone, and preferred to be alone. While the Guild was family, many members of that family remained fiercely private. Brynjolf was not one of those people– he was an extrovert at heart, and Signy seemed more than able to tolerate it, at least he hoped.

To his relief, however, she wasn't taken aback by his proposition. “I’d like that a lot. You’ve already done a good job of keeping me busy. I don’t like being unoccupied, and it’s even worse when you’re lonely. I certainly haven’t been lonely since I got here,” she replied, with about as genuine a smile as you’d ever see on a thief.

She hadn’t meant to sound too sentimental, or attached. If there was anything she’d learned in her life, it was not to get attached to anyone, or anything. If she was being honest with herself, though, she already had. The Guild had been such a welcome respite from her situation, as had Brynjolf. He was her first real friend in a long time, even if she’d omitted something as important as the dragon problem. To be honest, she had mostly been withholding it from herself.

That is, until Rune burst into the Flagon, breathless, raw fear etched into his face.

“There was a dragon! Attacking outside the city walls! I think it flew away, but I saw it! With my own eyes! A damned dragon!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine if I could ever get these things up in a reasonable amount of time. What a world that would be! Anyway, Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! Here's a chapter I've been trying to work out for what feels like forever :) xo

A dragon. Outside of Riften.

It was as if Signy was deaf to anything except for Rune’s words, echoing in her head. Her heart was racing, and she felt a scorching, anxious heat cascading down her body. But still, she couldn’t move a muscle, and all she wanted to do was sink into the floor.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since the young Imperial thief had burst into the Flagon, but it felt like an eternity. Brynjolf was no longer sitting opposite her– he had leapt up to tend to the situation as soon as the news had left Rune’s mouth. There was a clamor of voices from where everyone stood, but Signy had to force herself to pay attention to what they were saying.

“I heard talk of a dragon attack at Helgen, but I didn’t believe it. You’re saying this dragon nonsense is true?” said a female voice– Vex, Signy thought.

“Shouldn’t ‘ave passed it off as nonsense so quickly. I’ve been tellin’ you, something is afoot.” Delvin.

“What, so you think this has something to do with this ‘curse’? That’s utter lunacy, you weak-minded madman!” definitely Vex.

“Enough,” said a distinct voice– Brynjolf. “We can’t be fighting like children right now. If Rune is right about what he saw, we’ve very grave matters to worry about. Mercer isn’t here, so that puts me in charge, and I don’t want anybody leaving the Cistern tonight if they don’t have to. Not with a dragon lurking about.”

“I agree, Bryn, but don’t you think we should send a scout up? See what the word is?” Delvin replied.

“The old fool is right. I’ll go,” came Vex’s voice again. “I’ll get out of there as fast as I can if it comes down to it. Don’t worry.”

“… Aye, lass. Be careful. Don’t dally,” Brynjolf said, as serious as Signy had ever heard him.

The crowd at the entrance to the Flagon dispersed, but Signy remained where she had been sitting, allowing herself to process everything that had just happened. As the voices in her head began to quiet, another voice, familiar and clear, came from behind her.

“Lass? Everything alright?”

Just as she turned her head to look up at Brynjolf, she felt his hand fall to her shoulder. It was a warm and comforting weight, anchoring her back to reality. She turned her gaze upwards, taking in her friend’s expression– gentle, but shaken, and clearly worried. Another wave of anxious heat shot through her body, though not scorching and fearsome like before.  
“I… I think so. It’s just a lot to take in, I guess. Dragons,” she replied slowly. How could she explain to him why her reaction was so strong? Everyone was scared, of course, but she had completely frozen. She had panicked. Was it even safe for her to tell him the truth? Not only for herself, but for Brynjolf. The last thing she ever wanted to happen was to put him in danger.

“As long as you’re sure you’re alright, lass,” he said, the concern still evident in his furrowed brow. “You had me a bit worried. You’re usually the first to say something, but you’re sat here looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Signy took a deep breath, steadying herself before responding. Her mind was moving a million miles a minute, trying to decide how to proceed. Despite her desire for secrecy, as strong as it was, every instinct she had seemed to say that for whatever reason, Brynjolf had to know. He deserved to know. It was foolish to try and keep it from him. But she couldn’t do that now. She needed to gather her thoughts.

She rose from her chair slowly, bringing her eyes up to meet his. “Brynjolf… I know this sounds odd, but could you… would you meet me in the training room later tonight? Once everyone’s asleep or drunk. There’s something I should tell you in private.”

He nodded. “Aye, lass. But I reckon we could steal up to the temple gardens, as long as we’re not too far from the back passage to the Guild. A bit more private.”

“That would be good. I’ll see you at midnight?” she said, thankful that he hadn’t raised too much suspicion. 

“Midnight. And lass… this isn’t anything I should be worried about, is it?” Brynjolf said, his voice steady and serious.

“To be honest, Bryn, I don’t know.”

* * *

Signy was perched in a tree behind the Temple of Mara, watching the false tomb that served as the secret entrance to the Guild headquarters. Vex had come back to report that the dragon had disappeared off towards the mountains, which was a comfort to Signy, albeit a small one. It was strangely comforting to sit in silence, hearing only distant voices of locals making their way in and out of The Bee and Barb. For a second, the world was happening around her, and she merely observed. She had rehearsed her story over and over again since last seeing Brynjolf so as not to sound crazy, but in the quiet, the thought floated away like a cloud on the wind.

Suddenly, her ears picked up the sound of stone, and she focused on the Guild entrance. Brynjolf appeared from within the tomb, scanning the area around him for Signy. She softly called out to him– “Bryn!”– before nimbly jumping down from the branch, landing almost silently before striding towards him.

“That’s why I like you, lass,” Brynjolf said, a soft smile on his face. “As good a sneak as I’ve ever seen.”

She chuckled quietly before responding. “Using flattery to make serious circumstances more palatable? You’re getting predictable.”

“Aye, and you’re getting less and less predictable by the minute, lass,” he chided, the smile still on his face. Though he joked, he wasn’t wrong. “What did you want to tell me?”

As soon as the question had left Brynjolf’s lips, Signy lost track of everything she’d planned to tell him. It simply all began to tumble out without her thinking about it.

“I had rehearsed a story, but… I don’t even know how to go about telling it. I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy. And I know this will all sound crazy, but I need you to try to believe me, okay?”

“Of course. Come on, just get out with it, lass. I promise I won’t judge. Please. You’re worrying me.” His eyes said that this was true. Green and bright as ever in the moonlight, they still gave away his concern, even if only to her.

She nodded, and allowed the floodgates to open. “The dragons. They’re coming back. And somehow, only Gods know why, I have something to do with it.”

“… In what way? Was that dragon here for you? I’m lost.”

Signy sighed, uncertain as ever. “Have you ever heard the legend of the Dragonborn?”

Brynjolf nodded. “Great hero, devours the souls of dragons. What does that have to do with you, lass?”

Signy stared at him, her mind swirling. “What if… I told you that the legend was true?” Gods, she sounded so melodramatic. Why couldn’t she just come out and say it?

“I’m not sure I understand,” Brynjolf said, looking puzzled. “You can just tell me, lass. You’re safe here. I promise.”

His words raised a lump in her throat, her eyes burning slightly as if she was about to cry. She fought the feeling back, not wanting to lose her composure. She hated crying, especially in front of anyone. Especially in front of someone like Brynjolf. 

She sucked the cool night air into her lungs, steadying herself. What if he didn’t believe her? What if he thought her insane? What if this ended everything she’d gained since joining the Guild– a family, a home?

“I’m the Dragonborn, Bryn. I was at Helgen that day, and Whiterun the next. When the Greybeards called, they called for me.” The lump still sat in Signy’s throat, her face flushed. She didn’t dare breathe until he responded.

Brynjolf’s face was blank, stunned for a moment, then thoughtful. He nodded his head, considering his next words ever so carefully. “Lass, I’ve not known you all that long, but I know that you wouldn’t just say this for the fun of it. I believe you. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

Signy let out a heaving sigh of relief, but her eyes stung with the beginnings of tears. She blinked it back. It wasn’t like her to cry, but to say she was overwhelmed would be an understatement. She shook herself of the thoughts racing through her mind to speak, but could barely muster an audible voice.

“I don’t know either. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do. I’m so scared, Brynjolf. I’ve never been this scared in my life.”

Before she knew it, Brynjolf’s arms were around her, engulfing her in the warmest, tightest hug she’d ever had. Suddenly, it was as if all her fears had been washed away by a warm wave, just for a moment. 

“Signy, I don’t know if I’ll be of much use… but know that you can trust me,” he spoke softly, but filled with emotion. “You can always trust me. We’ll figure this out. The Guild takes care of its own, and by the Nine, lass, you’re a part of this family now. I– we won’t let anything, not even a dragon hurt you.”

The two thieves sat in the cemetery for longer than they could keep track of. It might have been hours that they spent there, talking about dragons, their lives, and Signy’s situation.

“I know you won’t want to hear this, but you can’t hide forever,” Brynjolf said. “This sounds like something Delvin would say, the crazy old bat, but at some point you’ll have to face your destiny, or something like that.”

Signy nodded in agreement. “I know. I felt awful for running from it, and I still do. But I couldn’t face this as I was. I suppose a time will come when I’ll have to come clean to everyone, the world, and face this head-on. But I’m not even close to ready yet.”

“Lass, we’ll be by your side. You don’t have to do this alone. You’re not only a member of the Guild, but you’re a friend. I may be a thief, a dirty scoundrel, or any other number of things, but I’d like to think I take care of my friends.”

Signy laughed softly. “You horrible, horrible man. Being such a good friend and all.”

“Aye. What good could a thief ever do?” he replied with a wink.

“Well… at least one thief may have to be responsible for saving all our skins from dragons.”

“What a world, lass. What a world.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, it has been a WHILE, y'all! Long story short, I've had a million other things to focus on, and lost my inspiration for this story for a hot second (and by that, I mean, like, a few months... oops), but it's back now!

Things almost felt normal for a while. Signy took job after job, keeping herself busy enough to push the dragon crisis from the forefront of her mind. The adrenaline rush of larceny and trickery made her feel in control, in stark contrast to what seemed like the end of the world. After all, she was good at what she did, and only getting better. So when it came to her current, everyday life, her biggest problem was Mercer’s continued distaste for her.

“I don’t know what his issue is, lass,” Brynjolf said to her as they walked back to Riften after another morning jaunt through the woods. “I really don’t. I understand he’s stressed about money, we all are, but you’re not the problem. Hell, you’ve been bringing in more coin than most of the Guild. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Signy laughed, a clear and bright sound cutting through the crisp mountain air. She had a distinct laugh– sometimes a little loud, but genuine, and full of life. If Brynjolf didn’t know the truth, he’d never believe the lass might be at the center of a deadly, prophetic crisis.

“I won’t breathe a word, thief’s honor,” she said with a smirk. “I do wish I knew what his problem was, though. I’m not in the business of passive-aggressive squabbling.”

Now, Brynjolf let out a laugh. “Fiery today, are we, lass?”

Signy only shrugged. “It is what it is,” she began, her voice calm, but serious. “I’m in the Guild now. I did Goldenglow. I did Goldenglow well. Not to speak ill of the Guildmaster, especially as the newest member, but I think Mercer has been unduly harsh with me, and quite frankly, it’s rather petty. But he’s in charge, so I’ll deal with it. My work can speak for itself. I’m tired enough as is with this dragon nonsense hanging over my head, nightmares all the time. It’s frustrating as hell.”

She hoped she hadn’t gone too far in expressing her discontent, knowing that Brynjolf and Mercer were not only close associates, but close friends. But she couldn’t, and wouldn’t deny that she deserved to be treated with more respect. Even if she was the newest member.

Thankfully, Brynjolf only nodded with a soft chuckle, letting the heavy topic of dragons dissipate. “You’re blunt as ever, lass. I admire that. And I admire your honesty. Mercer may be my friend, and our boss, but I’m not afraid to say that he’s being a real ass,” he said before exaggeratedly looking around, pretending as if he was expecting Mercer to sneak up on the both of them and unleash his wrath. “Well, maybe a little afraid.”

Signy’s laugh echoed through the woods again. He liked that laugh.

“Ah, Bryn, I’m being negative. It’s not all bad. I like this dysfunctional family. It keeps me on my toes, and I have a lot of fun.” She paused, and smiled. “Plus, I met you. Not to get sentimental on you, but I reckon that’s been my favorite part.” She wasn’t holding back today, and it felt good.

Brynjolf wasn’t quite sure why, but he felt warmth spread through his chest. Knowing that she appreciated his company made him happy, very happy. Maybe a little too happy?

“Well, lass, I wasn’t having nearly this much fun until you got here. It’s been really wonderful having you around. Honest,” he said, without really thinking. Ah, Divines. He sounded like an absolute sop!

But, again Signy smiled. “Honest, huh? Thief’s honor?”

A sense of relief tickled the back of Brynjolf’s neck. Why was he so relieved? It’s not like it was a big deal. He shrugged it off, and shot her his usual devious grin.

“Thief’s honor, lass.” 

And he was being honest. The idea of the Guild without Signy seemed rather grim now, almost miserable. And it wasn’t just because she made them a lot of money.

In the back of his mind, he knew where this was going. But he ignored it, pretended that the thought wasn’t there. If his gut was right, Delvin and Vex were never going to let him hear the end of it.

* * *

_Her mother was dying in her arms again. Hot tears streaked down the young girl’s face, as she cried for her mother to stay with her just a bit longer. But the damage was done. The once proud and strong Nord woman was gone, not in battle, but enslaved at the hands of degenerate bandits. The girl’s only solace was knowing that her mother could be reunited with Papa in Sovngarde._

_The prison faded away around her. She was standing… someplace high up… a tower, or a mountain. The sky was deep, dark blue, but beginning to gleam around the edges. Dawn threatening to burst forth, but still awaiting the right moment. Suddenly, a blinding flash of light streaked across the horizon, like lightning– but the thunder never came. She had but a moment to wonder what it might be before it came again, this time more distinct. Closer. Definitely not lightning now. It was orange – brilliant orange, the color of hearth and dawn. Where before she had heard silence, this time the blaze was accompanied by a sound. Not thunder… something else. Something she should recognize... but she cannot seem place it. A sense of terror, of what, she yet again couldn’t place began to creep across her body, first chilling her to the bone, then intensifying into a dark, anxious ache. Every fiber of her being screams to run and hide, but her body refuses to act. She was completely paralyzed… forced to wait and watch. Then, finally, realization and horror arrived together. The orange was flame, blinding heat. The sound a deafening roar, a challenge in an ancient tongue. But now, it was too late for escape. The dragon was upon her, fire and darkness descending like a thunderbolt._

_“You cannot hide any longer, Dovahkiin. Face me!”_

_The World Eater. Alduin._

Signy awoke, gasping, in a cold sweat, again. For the third late night, early morning, whatever, in a row. And she couldn’t handle it anymore.

Across the cistern, Brynjolf also sat awake. Sleep had not come easily for him in so long that at this point, he wouldn’t know what to do if he could sleep– at least he could use the would-be sleeping hours to be productive if he was going to be tired all the time. So, there he sat, poring over the Guild’s ledger for the past month, until he heard hurried paces echoing through the cistern. Looking up, he caught a glimpse of Signy, illuminated by torchlight as she darted up the ladder to the temple gardens above. What had her in such a rush at this hour?

Without thinking, Brynjolf followed. As he ascended the secret staircase into gardens, he was surprised to see Signy seated on the grass in front of the Shrine of Talos across from him. He approached quietly, not wanting to startle her, but her thief’s instincts outmatched his.

“Bryn, you didn’t have to come up here. I didn’t want to bother you. You looked busy,” her voice came, as she slowly turned, raising her silvery-grey eyes to meet his. They seemed even brighter than usual in the twilight, but half-vacant, as if she was lost. 

He took in her appearance in the moonlight. How different it was from their walk through the woods days before. Her snowy-pale skin was dimly lit, but Brynjolf could have sworn her cheeks were flushed. She must have just woken up, as the long, dark hair that she usually arranged into two plaits was draped down her back, loose, wavy, and disheveled. Her brow was furrowed with worry and exhaustion. Even in the darkness, he could tell she was as tired as he was. It raised a lump in his throat. He hated seeing the lass in this state.

“Can’t sleep either, eh?” he said gently, sitting down in the grass next to her.

She didn’t speak, only shaking her head wearily.

“It’s alright, lass. You don’t have to tell me,” he said, trying to sound comforting, although he did wish she would tell him what was wrong.

A heavy, exasperated sigh. “No, no, I want to. It’s the damn nightmares again. The ones about the dragon that attacked Helgen– they’ve changed. They’ve gotten worse.” She paused. “His name is Alduin. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”

“Dragons have names?” Brynjolf said, a little louder than he meant to. He was genuinely surprised.

“I guess so. There’s so much I don’t know, but I know that Alduin wants me. Wants me to face him. I know that I have to. But I’m so tired, Bryn. I’m so…” She trailed off, wanting to say something more, but unable to find the words. Brynjolf wished that he could find them for her, to ease her mind.

“Is there anything I can do, lass?” he finally said, breaking a short silence.

She turned fully to face him, and reached her hand out to touch his. Her skin was cold against his, but that warmth began to spread across his chest again.  
“I can’t hide any longer, Bryn. I… I still want this to stay quiet. I don’t want anything to change before it has to. This is as much stability as I’ve ever had, but I have it because I’m running and hiding from destiny, or something like that. I have to do something, but–” her voice broke, and she gave up on holding back whatever tears might come. There were few things Signy hated more than crying, especially in front of others, but she was too tired to care.

“I’m so scared. I’m so fucking scared, and I don’t know why the Gods have given me this fate. But there’s only one thing I know to be true right now, and it’s that I have to go to High Hrothgar. I have to face the Greybeards, and hear their guidance.”

Brynjolf’s chest felt as if it was going to explode. Seeing the lass so overwhelmed broke his heart. All he wanted was to make it better.

“If it’s the Guild you’re worried about, lass, it’s no matter. We can come up with some sort of cover, if you don’t want them to know. People tend to come and go as they please in our line of work. Nobody will think too much of it. Mercer might get ornary with you, but to Oblivion with him. What you’re doing is bigger than money, bigger than the Guild. I’ll do everything I can on this end to help you, lass, I swear it.”

With her free hand, Signy wiped the tears from her eyes, as Brynjolf gave the other a gentle squeeze. She locked eyes with the redheaded Nord. His face was wrought with genuine concern, replacing the usual smugness he wore as a form of armor. It was clear that her situation was something he cared deeply about, and seeing it filled her belly with a sensation like lightning. 

“I don’t deserve you, Bryn. I think anyone else would have run off screaming after hearing the truth about me.”

He let out a sigh before inching closer to her on the soft grass, beckoning her to lean against him. She obliged. The warmth of his body was so comforting.

“The thing is, Signy, you deserve more. There’s only so much I can do to help you. The journey to High Hrothgar, for starters, is dangerous. I certainly trust your abilities, lass, but pardon me for saying I wish you wouldn’t have to go alone. I would give anything to be there alongside you, but there would be hell to pay if the second in command deserted his post to run off on a mission with someone who needs a cover story to explain her absence.”

As a thief, Brynjolf had a complicated relationship with the truth. Lying to others, though, was much easier than lying to himself. But with Signy, he could only be honest. Sometimes it was refreshing, but this time, it felt miserable. She had entrusted him with the greatest secret someone could have, and it seemed like there was barely anything he could do to help.

But Signy was overwhelmed by Brynjolf’s kindness. For so long, she had been treated with nothing but cruelty. She had been with the Guild a few months now, and having so many people that she could call friends, especially one as important and close as Brynjolf, was still not something she was entirely used to. She wished he would be easier on himself– as she had said, it was enough that he hadn’t simply banned her from the Guild after learning her secret.  
“I can never fault you for that, Brynjolf. I would never expect you to accompany me to High Hrothgar, or anywhere else. It’s more than enough to have your support, and your silence.”

He sighed, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand, which was still interlocked with his. “I know. I just wish there was more I could do. I hate seeing you so upset, Signy. I really do.”

She nuzzled closer to her friend. “There is something you could do.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you sit here with me, for a while? I’m too wound up to sleep right now.”

Brynjolf laughed softly before pressing his lips to the top of her head as gently as he could. “Of course, lass.”

As wound up as Signy might have been, it wasn’t long before their quiet conversation trailed off, and she was fast asleep in Brynjolf’s arms. Just as the sun was about to rise, he carried her back towards the secret entrance to the Cistern, down the ladder, and to her bed, without her stirring even once.

She would need the sleep, he thought. A journey up the seven thousand steps awaited her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really fun to write, especially the dream sequence. I based it off of the description Esbern gives of his nightmares when you talk to him at Sky Haven Temple! I'm hoping I'll be able to work on this more frequently now, but life is crazy. I promise I'll try, though! I hope you enjoyed this long overdue update, and hope you'll enjoy future updates as well!


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